


Borrowed Heat

by notallbees



Series: Omega Sylvain Week [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Age Difference, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cunnilingus, De-Aged Sylvain Jose Gautier, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Omega Sylvain Jose Gautier, Porn with Feelings, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Scissoring, Somnophilia, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallbees
Summary: "Can't we just...wait it out?" Ingrid asked.Felix responded with a disdainful snort. "We're already two days behind schedule. We can't sit around here waiting for the boar to be lucid again, we'll be dead before that happens.""I do not think it will be possible to move him," a low voice rumbled. Dedue again."Is there nobody who could...help him out?" another voice suggested, tentatively.An unknown spell reverts Sylvain to his fourteen year old self, but he insists that makes him the perfect person to help the King through his unexpected heat.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Omega Sylvain Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718962
Comments: 22
Kudos: 121
Collections: Omega Sylvain Week





	Borrowed Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abellum (nishtabel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishtabel/gifts).



> It's still [#OmegaSylvainWeek](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/1246062099152977923)! 
> 
> Please note that I generally write omegas with vaginas or as intersex.
> 
>   
> HI NISH I HOPE U LIKE THESE KINKS BUT FEEL FREE TO SKIP IT IF NOT

Sylvain woke with a start. He'd been having a nightmare, but it melted away the second he opened his eyes, and he was left with only a vague impression of blood, and screaming, and the impression of a lance against his empty hand. He sighed and rolled over, trying to get comfortable again, but just as he began to drift off, he heard movement beyond the fire, and perked up at the sound of low voices. 

"—can't just leave him like this."

"Are you volunteering to go in there and help?"

Felix.

"Of course not, but he's _suffering_. I don't think he even fully realises what's happening to him—"

And Ingrid.

"I tried to calm him, but he became very agitated when I got close to him."

Sylvain didn't know that voice, not well. He recognised it as Dedue, the man from Duscur who seemed to follow the Prince around like a shadow. They must have been talking about Dimitri. Sylvain sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and cocked his head to hear their muffled conversation better. 

"Can't we just...wait it out?" Ingrid asked.

Felix responded with a disdainful snort. "We're already two days behind schedule. We can't sit around here waiting for the boar to be lucid again, we'll be dead before that happens."

"I do not think it will be possible to move him," a low voice rumbled. Dedue again.

"Is there nobody who could...help him out?" another voice suggested, tentatively. "Another omega…"

"Are you volunteering, Annie?"

"Oh gosh, no, that wouldn't be right—"

Sylvain heard footsteps then, followed by a soft voice. "He's resting now, but I doubt that sleeping draught will keep him quiet for long. His Majesty has the constitution of a horse."

Felix barked an unkind laugh, and Ingrid hushed him. Across the fire, Sylvain saw several of them glance in his direction, and stiffen when they realised he was awake.

"What're you doing up?" Felix growled at him.

Sylvain frowned. "What's wrong with Dimitri?"

"Nothing," Felix said. "Go back to sleep."

Instead of obeying him, Sylvain scrambled out of his bedroll and walked around the fire to crouch opposite Ingrid and Felix. 

"Tell me," he said, looking between them with a steady gaze.

Felix scoffed. "It's a grownup matter."

"I'm older than you," Sylvain said evenly.

"Not anymore you're not," Felix shot back.

Sylvain huffed. "I'm not a child. I'm fourteen. Tell me."

"And then there's the matter of this one," the other woman said softly. Sylvain had forgotten her name; Margaret or Millicent or something. "We still haven't found out how to reverse the spell, or even what kind of spell it is."

"I'm working on it, Mercie," Annette offered. 

"And I'm right here," Sylvain said crossly. He glared around at each of them in turn. Annette and Ingrid looked sheepish, Felix annoyed, while Dedue and Mercie were unreadable. "And I'm almost an adult. According to you lot, I _am_ an adult, so why don't you tell me what's going on, before I go and ask him myself?"

A stunned silence followed his words, and then Felix broke it with an unattractive snort. "Why don't we ask the expert, after all?" he said in a sarcastic tone. Sylvain frowned. It seemed to him that Felix had started acting much more like Glenn, and Sylvain wasn't altogether sure he liked it. The silence continued after he'd spoken; none of them seemed to want to look at each other, let alone at him.

"His Majesty is in heat," Mercie said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "He's...unwell, at the moment. Not himself. I'm afraid he's not handling it very well."

Sylvain wrinkled his nose, considering. He hadn't seen much of Dimitri in the past two days, since he'd woken up on a battlefield in armour that was four sizes too big, with Felix's terrified face over him, but he'd caught glimpses. Truthfully, he hadn't even recognised Dimitri at first, but Felix had sworn blind that it was really him. "For what it's worth", he'd said, turning away. Wherever Sylvain was— _when_ ever he was—he was not a fan of this new, bad-tempered Felix, who seemed to view Dimitri as a personal affront, rather than the man he would one day dedicate his life to.

Sylvain's thoughts turned back to what Mercie had said. Dimitri was in heat. He touched his bottom lip with his tongue, turning it over in his head. He'd promised not to tell, not ever, yet perhaps there was a way he could convince them without revealing it.

"I can help him," he said. He swallowed thickly. "Help him through it."

For a moment, everyone looked shocked. Then they all started speaking at once, uttering protests and—in Felix's case at least—cursing him out with some particularly inventive vocabulary. 

"Listen to me!" he said, beseeching the group with his eyes. "I know how to help—"

"Cocky little brat," Felix growled. "Just because you're a slut now—"

"Felix!" Ingrid said sharply. 

Mercie—Mercedes, Sylvain now remembered—leaned closer and put a warm hand on his shoulder. "He's not the same as the boy you remember," she said softly. "He's—very dangerous. He could hurt you."

Sylvain frowned at her. "He won't hurt me," he said, quite certain of the fact. He'd seen this Dimitri; he looked...different, but not dangerous. To Sylvain he'd just looked terribly, impossibly sad. 

Felix scoffed at him, then pushed himself to his feet and walked away from the fire, muttering something unkind about Sylvain and his parentage. Well, it wasn't as though Sylvain would disagree with _that_. In Felix's absence, the women exchanged looks, while Dedue simply watched him carefully. Sylvain stared back, trying to read him. 

"Mercedes is right," Dedue said eventually. "He is not the same person you remember."

"Exactly," Ingrid said, nodding. "It's dangerous to—"

"But," Dedue continued, still watching Sylvain with that impassive gaze, "I think we should let Sylvain try." 

Sylvain's face lit up.

"Oh, Dedue, I don't know if—"  
"—what are we supposed to do when Dimitri tears his throat out—?"  
"—he's just a child…"

"Alright," Sylvain said, standing up, and drawing himself up to his full height, which was _almost_ as tall as Felix. "Firstly, I'm _fourteen_ , not four. Secondly, it's not exactly the first time I've spent my heat with another—person." He caught himself before he could reveal too much. "And, lastly, I'm stronger than I look." He glared at Felix. " _You_ ought to remember."

Felix rolled his eyes and gave a huff of unamused laughter. "Fine, let him do what he wants. One less problem for me if he gets himself killed."

"Felix," Ingrid scolded half-heartedly.

"We'll be outside the whole time?" Mercedes suggested, looking round at the others.

Sylvain grimaced. "I'd...prefer you weren't." They all looked at him in surprise, and he squirmed on the spot. "It's...private."

"Oh, goddess," Felix said, and let out a bark of laughter. 

Sylvain scowled at his back as he walked away. He wasn't especially shy himself, although he certainly didn't like the idea of a group of adults listening in, but he knew that Dimitri wouldn't like it. "Where is he?" he asked instead of arguing.

Mercedes gave him a shrewd look, then she stood and offered him her hand. Sylvain eyed it uncomfortably for a moment, then stood and followed without taking it. Shrugging, Mercedes turned and led him away from the campfire, to a large tent pitched at some distance from the rest. The archer stood outside, a short distance from the tent, his bow in his hands.

"Is everything alright, Ashe?" Mercedes called out.

Ashe nodded. "He's been...quiet."

As they approached, Sylvain caught a strong, unfamiliar scent on the air, and he frowned. "Is that...him?"

"Mm. He's been...different, since he returned."

Sylvain blinked at her. That much was obvious. "What happened to him?"

Mercedes hummed softly. "We don't know."

"Haven't you asked him?"

"Sylvain," she said, pausing and turning to face him. "The Dimitri you remember—he was young, and happy, with his family and friends, and all his life before him. Our Dimitri...he's lost so much. I'm not sure how much of him is left."

Frowning, Sylvain turned back toward the shadowy tent, raising his chin. "I'm going to find out."

The tent was still and quiet as they approached, but Mercedes used a spell to light the lantern within, and drew back the tent flap to usher Sylvain inside. 

"Let me wake him," she said softly. 

"Wait," Sylvain said, putting a hand on her arm. He looked over at Dimitri, who even in sleep looked tired and anxious, and shook his head. "I'll just...stay. Maybe I can help soothe him just by being here until he wakes up."

Mercedes' face softened. "Perhaps that is for the best, yes." She drew up a chair and placed it beside the bedroll that Dimitri was curled up on. "Good luck. I'll be nearby if you need me, but I promise not to listen."

"Then how will you know if I need help?" 

She answered him with an enigmatic smile, then left, letting the tent flap fall behind her. Sylvain sighed. He supposed that was as good as he was likely to get. He looked around the tent, which was sparse, then he padded over to the bedroll and knelt down at Dimitri's side. 

Even knowing that it was him, Sylvain could scarcely recognise the boy he knew in the figure that lay before him. His hair was long and tangled, and he was so much bigger. Almost as big as the King. He'd also taken off his eyepatch to sleep, and Sylvain could see the long-healed scar that slashed through his ruined right eye. He let his eyes roam over Dimitri's sleeping face, taking in the familiar shape of his nose, his soft eyebrows, his thin, pretty mouth. Cautiously, Sylvain reached out and touched Dimitri's forehead with the back of his hand. He was dressed in thin clothing, but even so he was feverishly warm, his cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed. Sylvain got up and went to a bowl of water he'd noticed on the other side of the tent, and dipped the cloth he found into it before crossing back to Dimitri's side. 

Dimitri moaned softly when Sylvain applied the cool cloth to his forehead, then again, quiter, when Sylvain moved it down to press against his neck, soothing his swollen glands. Watching him, Sylvain found himself shy for a moment, but then he reached up to brush the damp strands of hair back from Dimitri's forehead, and Dimitri sighed and leaned into his touch. Sylvain smiled down at him. Although his scent was new and unfamiliar, there was a twinge that Sylvain recognised, that made him think of heavy blue curtains around a four poster bed, and the close air as they huddled beneath the sheets together, and soft, damp flesh beneath his fingertips.

Sylvain refreshed the cloth and draped it over Dimitri's forehead, then he carefully wriggled into Dimitri's bedroll, pressing himself close and closing his eyes. Dimitri's scent was just familiar enough to be comforting, and just new enough to be exciting, and Sylvain didn't expect to fall asleep again, so he was surprised to wake a short time later.

He opened his eyes to find one of Dimitri's arms clamped tight around his waist, while his face was pressed into Sylvain's neck. Feeling self-conscious, Sylvain stroked his hair again, running his fingers over the mess of dirty tangles. He didn't like seeing Dimitri in this state; uncared for, ungroomed. It was the job of his omega companions to keep him happy and fulfilled, not to mention _clean_. He couldn't help wondering what the _hell_ his older self had been up to lately, to leave his King in this sorry state.

While he was lost in thought, Dimitri made a low noise in his throat and slung his leg over Sylvain's thigh, rolling his hips closer. Sylvain's breath caught in his chest when he realised he could feel the unmistakable heat of Dimitri's cunt against his thigh. He licked his lips, then he cautiously slid a hand down between them, seeking out the soft heat of Dimitri's cunt through his thin clothing. Dimitri bucked against his hand, whining softly. So that at least was still familiar; the sounds he made, more or less unchanged. It gave Sylvain a little confidence, and he twisted his hand around so that he could rub Dimitri with his fingertips, stroking slowly back and forth through his smallclothes. 

"Nn...mm," Dimitri moaned softly.

Sylvain turned his head and nuzzled into Dimitri's cheek, hoping to soothe him. He kept stroking Dimitri's cunt, fingers gentle, heart drumming when he felt wetness begin to bleed through the fabric. Shyly, he pressed a kiss to the corner of Dimitri's mouth, watching him carefully for any hint that he might be waking up. Holding his breath, he pulled Dimitri's underwear away from his skin and slipped his hand inside to touch his bare skin. The taut muscles of Dimitri's abdomen jumped under his fingertips. He slid them lower, following the trail of rough hair down to the soft, velvet mouth of Dimitri's cunt. He stroked the soft, wet lips, still slow, not wanting to wake him. After a minute he parted them with care, sliding his middle finger down, deeper, slipping it inside him. 

He felt the moment Dimitri woke; his body went taut, and his eyelid fluttered against Sylvain's cheek. Before Sylvain could withdraw his hand, Dimitri had him pressed to the ground with a hand around his throat, growling in his face. 

"What do you want with me, spirit?" he snarled.

Sylvain blinked at him, frozen, his heart beating fast. "Y-Your Highness," he managed weakly. "It's me. It's Sylvain."

Dimitri looked very shocked for a few moments, then his face clouded. "So it's true," he whispered, his grip on Sylvain's throat loosening. "You've come to haunt me too."

"Dimitri," Sylvain said, beginning to feel afraid. "I'm here, I'm just—" He hesitated. "Different."

"Gone," Dimitri murmured sadly.

"No, I—" Sylvain cast around in desperation, but he didn't know what to say, what to _do_. In his panic, he lunged forward and pressed their lips together clumsily. The kiss lasted only a few moments, Dimitri tense and unresponsive. But when Sylvain went to pull away, Dimitri growled and cupped a hand around the back of his neck to pull him in again, kissing him hard. Sylvain yelped against his mouth at the sudden brutal treatment; it seemed Dimitri hadn't improved much at kissing since he was twelve, but Sylvain hardly cared. He melted against Dimitri, moaning when Dimitri's tongue plunged into his mouth, and instinctively he began to move his hand again, rubbing his palm against the soft, moist flesh beneath his hand. 

"O-oh," Dimitri groaned, breaking the kiss. A trail of spit connected their lips, but Dimitri didn't seem to notice, his hips canting against Sylvain's hand. "What—what is this?"

Sylvain licked his lips and crooked his finger inside Dimitri. "You—you're in heat, Highness. You remember this?"

Dimitri made a choked little sound and nodded eagerly. "I—I remember. G-Goddess, Sylvain—"

 _There_. Sylvain's heart leapt, his stomach churning delightfully. His own cunt ached, wetness filling his smalls. "Will you let me help?"

But to his horror, Dimitri started to cry, hot tears running down his cheeks and splashing on Sylvain's neck. 

"What's wrong?" Sylvain whispered, freezing again. 

"H-have you not t-tortured me enough?" Dimitri murmured, still weeping bitterly. "Must I endure this too?"

Sylvain blanched. "Dimitri, no, I—" He tried to withdraw his hand, but his wrist was trapped between their bodies, and his attempt only jostled his fingers in Dimitri's cunt.

Dimitri whimpered. "This is a punishment?" he asked sadly.

"W-why would you need to be punished?" Sylvain whispered.

"For my sinful desires," Dimitri said in a solemn voice. "I f-failed to avenge my ghosts, and they haunt my every step. I want—terrible, lustful things...and you have come to torment me."

"Dimitri, no—" Sylvain tried again to free his hand, tears stinging his own eyes. This was so, so _wrong_. Where were Dimitri's friends? Where was _he_? How could he have let things get to this wretched state?

"Please," Dimitri whimpered, clenching down on Sylvain's finger. "I d-don't deserve to—f-feel this pleasure—"

Sylvain paused, looking up at him. He'd begun to fear that Dimitri wanted none of his attentions, that he'd made a misstep in coming here after all, but despite his words, Dimitri's body was open and hungry, his slick spilling down Sylvain's wrist. 

"Perhaps…" he ventured anxiously. "Perhaps it is a kindness. A—a respite."

Dimitri blinked down at him, damp eyes wide. "Do you think so?"

"They could have sent an alpha," Sylvain continued. "To claim and breed you like a bitch."

Dimitri recoiled, horror twisting his sunken face. 

"But instead I'm here," Sylvain said, sliding his free hand up, using it to brush Dimitri's hair back out of his eyes. 

At the first touch of his fingers, Dimitri flinched, but then he relaxed minutely, and nudged his head against Sylvain's hand. He was like a nervous animal, wary and injured. Sylvain stroked his hair a couple of times, then gently brushed the pad of his thumb along Dimitri's eyebrow, smoothing it out. Dimitri whimpered and nuzzled into his hand. 

"There now," Sylvain murmured, in a tone he usually reserved for his horse, or a tearful Felix. It seemed absurd to use it on a man almost ten years his senior, yet this Dimitri seemed almost _younger_ the one he remembered, all his warmth and confidence drained away. Instinctively, Sylvain cupped his hand around Dimitri's neck and drew him down gently to kiss him again. "I've got you," he whispered, and kissed Dimitri's cheek, lapping the salty tears from the crease of his cheek. "Let me make it better, alright?"

"Syl-Syl _vain_ ," Dimitri groaned, burying his face in Sylvain's neck. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, y-you're gone, because of _me_."

"Shh, I'm right here." Sylvain nuzzled his cheek against Dimitri's temple, and used the palm of his hand to grind over his cunt, rubbing his bslowly. "I'll make you feel good."

Dimitri whimpered, rocking against his hand. "Please," he whispered, unclear whether he was begging for more, or for it to cease.

Sylvain swallowed, his heart hammering. "Please...more?"

"Yes, yes," Dimitri chanted, nodding eagerly. His head was tipped back with pleasure, sweat shining on his skin in the lamplight. He slid his hand down Sylvain's spine, cupping his waist again and pulling him closer. It meant that Sylvain's wrist was bent at an awkward angle, but he could still work his finger in the warm honey of Dimitri's cunt, wriggling it around, wondering at how much _bigger_ Dimitri was, even here. The Dimitri he remembered could barely take one of Sylvain's fingers, yet here Sylvain was, merrily easing a second into him, and Dimitri barely twitched. 

"Mm, Dimitri?" Sylvain whispered against his throat. "I need more space to touch you."

Dimitri whimpered, but then he rolled away onto his back, his arm bringing Sylvain with him so that he ended up partly draped over Dimitri's chest. 

Sylvain could move his hand more freely now, and he used the opportunity to grind his fingers in deep, the way he normally touched himself, and grinned at the way Dimitri gasped and went taut again. "You remember this, don't you," he purred, crooking his fingers around again and pressing into the sensitive spot that, last time, had made Dimitri _wail_.

Sure enough, Dimitri threw his head back with a soft cry, his lank hair spilling around him on the pillow. Sylvain stared in wonder at a thin scar on his neck, wondering how many more he'd find if he looked beneath Dimitri's shirt. Even the Dimitri he remembered had hardly been flawless; his skin marred with scars and bruises from his endless training. But this was different: not only his body, but his mind too, twisted and broken by war. Sadness threatened to overwhelm Sylvain, and he buried his face in Dimitri's chest, breathing in his strong, bitter scent. Beneath him, Dimitri shifted restlessly, rolling his hips somewhat impatiently. 

"Alright, it's alright," Sylvain murmured, pushing himself up again. He watched Dimitri's face as he fingered him slowly, grinding his fingers in deep. Then he withdrew and circled his fingertip around Dimitri's bud.

Dimitri gave a broken cry, more than loud enough to be heard from outside, bucking up against Sylvain's hand. At the same time he grabbed a handful of Sylvain's hair, making him yelp with the sudden force of it. "More," he begged, pleading with his gaze. 

"A-alright," Sylvain said weakly. He moved to the end of the bedroll and tugged the thin leggings Dimitri wore, pulling them off him clumsily. His heart racing, he pushed Dimitri's thighs apart next, almost choking on the heavy scent that rolled up from between his legs. Sylvain moved closer, trailing his hands along Dimitri's thighs.

"Touch me, _please_ ," Dimitri groaned. 

Sylvain startled into action. He slid his hands higher, cupping Dimitri's narrow hips, then he flattened his palm over Dimitri's coarse pubic hair, and slid his hand down, until he could wet the base of his thumb with Dimitris slick. He moved it higher again, grinding against his bud, then slid three fingers of his other hand inside him. It was more snug than two, but still not a tight fit. Dimitri seemed pleased regardless, grabbing fistfuls of his bedroll and making a choked, helpless sound. Sylvain kept stroking him, watching in fascination as his three fingers dove in and out of Dimitri's glistening cunt. He curled them around again, and watched as Dimtiri's hips jerked off the ground, stomach twitching, fists clenching tight again. 

"Sylvain," Dimitri wailed, bearing down against his hand. "Please—"

"W-what do you need?" Sylvain asked, voice shaking. His own leggings were soaked between his thighs as though he were in heat himself. Dimitri was pushing himself up on his elbows, reaching for him. Sylvain leaned closer, and Dimitri cupped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him forward to kiss him. Dimitri moaned into his mouth as their lips met, and Sylvain felt Dimitri's cunt clench around his fingers. "Dimitri—" Sylvain whispered against his lips. "C-can you—can you come for me?" 

Dimitri groaned loudly. "No, no, please—" He dug his heels into the ground and bucked his hips into Sylvain's hands. "Sylvain, _please_ —"

Sylvain bit his lip, unsure whether he was supposed to stop or keep going. He dipped his hand down to stroke through the slick mess of Dimitri's cunt, then resumed circling his bud, pressing a little harder now, faster, stroking him quickly. 

"No, nnn-no," Dimitri groaned, hips twitching. He threw his head back suddenly, his body jerking under Sylvain's hands, cunt clenching so hard it was almost painful around Sylvain's fingers. Slick spilled out of him in waves as he came, hot and messy. Sylvain watched him shudder, his body spasming with it as the pleasure rolled over him. By the time he lay still, tears were rolling down Dimitri's face again, and Sylvain felt impossibly torn; he was trembling, his cunt pulsing with need, but he wanted nothing more than to crawl close to Dimitri and gather him to his chest. Instead, he knelt there: frozen to the spot, hands sticky. 

Finally, Dimitri flung an arm over his face and turned away from him, curling into himself. "Sorry," he mumbled into his chest. "I am so sorry."

"Oh, Dimitri, no—" Sylvain said helplessly. He crawled closer, gently tugging Dimitri's arm away from his face. "Hush now, you didn't do anything wrong." He ducked his head and kissed Dimitri's cheeks, licking the bitter salt off his face a second time. "I just want to make you feel good." He cupped Dimitri's head and curled around him, letting Dimitri's head rest on his stomach. "It's alright, you're safe."

Dimitri whimpered, and his hands came up to clutch at Sylvain's clothing, pulling at him fiercely. He wept a little longer, soaking Sylvain's shirt with his tears, but then he began to calm. He wrapped both arms tightly around Sylvain's waist, cuddling him close. His face was hot against Sylvain's skin through the thin layer of clothing. Sylvain held him. After a minute or two, Sylvain started to purr, and smiled when he felt Dimitri clutch him more tightly. He ran his fingers over Dimitri's hair, already making plans to locate some soap and a comb the very next morning, and then stroked his back slowly, in time with his slow breaths. 

He began to think that Dimitri must have fallen asleep again, but then he felt him shifting, jaw moving. Sylvain peeled back to look at him, and Dimitri tilted his face up for a kiss. 

"Do you feel better?" Sylvain asked.

Dimitri nodded, then he surprised Sylvain by nudging his head aside and kissing his throat, slow and lingering. He pulled up Sylvain's shirt and kissed his stomach, then sucked on one of his nipples slowly. 

"Mmm...Dimitri," Sylvain sighed, lighting rippling down his spine again. "You don't have to—"

Dimitri hushed him with a growl, and applied himself more eagerly to Sylvain's chest, using teeth and tongue to undo him. Sylvain wasn't a virgin, but his limited experience had always been rushed and furtive, and it was the first time someone had taken the time to work him up in this way, so that by the time Dimitri trailed his mouth down to Sylvain's hip, he was quivering with desire, his cunt twitching and eager. 

Dimitri stripped him without ceremony, running his big hands over Sylvain's body. They were rough, battle-hardened, and Sylvain shivered at the feel of Dimitri's calloused fingers moving over his bare skin, gripping his thighs tightly. Without ceremony, Dimitri lowered his head and pushed his face between Sylvain's legs, opening his mouth to taste the slick of his cunt, moaning as he dragged his tongue up Sylvain's slit.

"Y-Your Highness—!" Sylvain squeaked, unsure whether he was scandalised by _Dimitri_ doing this to him, or by this older, unfamiliar version of his friend being the one to do it. Instinctively, he tried to close his legs, but it took Dimitri no effort at all to hold them open. 

"Let me in," Dimitri moaned, putting his hands around the outside of Sylvain's thighs and spreading them wider. "Want to taste you."

Sylvain surrendered with a whimper, letting his head fall back even as Dimitri lifted his hips effortlessly and plunged his tongue into Sylvain's cunt. He'd only experienced this once before, at the clumsy hands of an another omega, older and more experienced, but not particularly inventive. Sylvain had tolerated the clumsy lapping for a few minutes beofre gently suggesting they try something else instead, and his partner had agreed only too readily. He doubted Dimitri had much, if any, more experience than that other omega had, but he was so _eager_. He savoured the soft, sensitive lips of Sylvain's cunt as if they were candied fruit, sucking on them slowly, swirling his tongue around to lap up as much of Sylvain's slick as he could. He kept alternating between this and wriggling his tongue inside him, something he did with surprising deftness, until Sylvain was sighing and moving his hips impatiently, aroused but unsatisfied. 

"D-Dimitri, please," he groaned at last, too wanting to feel self-conscious. He reached down, and after a moment's hesitation, he put his hands in Dimitri's hair and guided his mouth to the sensitive bud at the apex of his lips. "Please, here—?"

Dimitri moaned and tipped his head into Sylvain's hands briefly, before lowering it to his task. Encouraged by this, Sylvain kept his fingers tangled in Dimitri's hair as he bent to his work, first running the flat of his tongue over Sylvain's bud, then taking it in his mouth and sucking on it slowly. Sylvain's hips bucked, but he kept his grip on Dimitri's hair, and after a moment Dimitri lifted his hips higher again, holding them in a vice grip as he started to suck Sylvain's bud more eagerly, apparently encouraged by his touch and the sounds he was making. Sylvain stopped trying to hold in his voice; he forgot about Mercedes listening nearby, and surrendered himself to Dimitri's mouth, sobbing and wailing as Dimitri mouthed and sucked and tongued him almost aggressively, eagerly sucking up every bit of fluid that leaked from him and leaving his spit in return. 

Sylvain came suddenly, undone by Dimitri's sudden, eager return to pleasuring his bud. He cried out and shook in Dimitri's hands, but Dimitri didn't stop. Instead he greedily lapped up the slick spilling forth from Sylvain's hole, chasing it with his tongue back to the source. he lifted Sylvain's hips higher, licking down between his legs, nipping at the soft skin of his backside and then lapping over his arsehole, sucking and stimulating it the same way despite Sylvain's shaky protests. He soon returned to chasing the slickness of Sylvain's cunt, and Sylvain quickly came again on his mouth, shivers rolling over him from head to toe as he trembled in Dimitri's determined grasp. 

At this, Dimitri released him finally, but it was only to spread Sylvain's thighs wide again and watch in fascination as he stroked his thumb up and down Sylvain's slit, stroking the velvet lips slowly, before pushing a finger into his leaking hole. Sylvain shook, clutching at the bedroll, filth spilling from his lips.

"O, oh—Dimitri, f-fuck me, p-put your fingers in me please, make me come again, I want to come on your tongue, please—"

Dimitri fucked him slowly with a finger, as though afraid he might hurt him if he went any faster, but between that and the slow sucking of his mouth on Sylvain's bud, it was more than enough to tip him over the edge a third time. He didn't even have the energy to cry out that time, just lay there whimpering and twitching until Dimitri released him, moving up his body, to kiss him finally.

Sylvain moaned as he took the taste of himself from Dimitri's lips, exploring his mouth with his tongue to better appreciate it. Dimitri pressed against him as they kissed languorously, and Sylvain could feel the heat of Dimitri's sex against his own. With a little effort, he tipped Dimitri onto his back, and squeezed himself between Dimitri's thighs. Slinging one leg over Dimitri's hips, he fitted them together like a buckle, and pressed the sensitive flesh of his cunt up against Dimitri's own. 

A shocked gasp spilled out of Dimitri, who reached out to grasp Sylvain's wrist as he rolled his hips down eagerly, rubbing his hot mound against Sylvain's. 

"Saints," Sylvain sobbed, letting his head fall back. He was so sensitive, he almost couldn't bear to be touched anymore, and yet the pressure and heat, the _slickness_ , were so delicious that he couldn't bring himself to stop. 

Dimitri moved against him, doing most of the work while Sylvain shivered and twitched and clutched his hand painfully hard. Finally, he started to come for a fourth time, crying out loudly as he spasmed and jerked against Dimitri, who ground their hips together slowly throughout, until he too tipped over, curling into himself with a pained-sounding groan. They each collapsed when they were done, their legs still entangled, sweat cooling on their skin. 

After a few minutes, Dimitri moved around and gently lifted Sylvain, tucking him into the bedroll beside him, kissing his bare shoulder and smoothing back his hair. Sylvain blinked up at him, his mind gone loose and warm in the pleasurable haze. He had the vague conviction that he should be the one caring for Dimitri, but his limbs felt so heavy he could scarcely move them to aid, only sigh happily and cuddle in closer when Dimitri curled his warm body around him. 

"...Thank you, Sylvain," Dimitri murmured at length, between applying slow kisses to the back of Sylvain's neck.

"No problem...Your Highness..." Sylvain mumbled sleepily, before passing out entirely. 

—

It was the early hours when Mercedes returned to the fire, and Felix was the only one awake. He looked up at her as she approached, wrinkling his nose. 

"Are they asleep?" he asked, frowning. "Or did the boar kill him?"

Mercedes clicked her tongue at him. "Sleeping, I should imagine."

Felix raised an eyebrow.

She laughed. "I don't think you should ask questions you don't want the answer to, Felix."

"I didn't ask anything," he said, bristling.

Mercedes laughed. "From the sounds of it, they very much enjoyed themselves."

Felix's face coloured. "I didn't ask," he said again, turning away and tucking his face into the warmth of his hood. "And _you_ said you wouldn't listen."

"I wanted to make sure they were safe."

"Hm."

Silence resumed. Beyond the low crackling of the embers in the firepit, Felix could hear water running nearby, and the calls of birds and night creatures in the woods. 

"Can we put him back?" he asked eventually. "Back to normal?"

Mercedes was quiet. "Are you asking about Sylvain?" she asked at last, "Or His Majesty?"

Surprised by the question, Felix barked a laugh. "Either. Both."

"I don't know," she said at last.

Felix huffed. "Fine. At least if he's stuck this way, it might give us some way to control the boar."

"Perhaps," Mercedes allowed. She stood again after a moment, and laid a comforting hand on Felix's shoulder. "Don't worry."

"Who's worried?" Felix said, turning back to stare into the fire. He sighed. "At least Ingrid is still relatively normal."

Mercedes laughed. "Relatively."

Felix nodded. 

"Goodnight, Felix."

Felix waved her away, and she disappeared into the darkness between the row of tents. 

In the farthest tent, Sylvain and Dimitri both slept on, the most peaceful sleep either of them had experienced in years.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on twitter](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/1256950869700104193) | [my three houses fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/works?fandom_id=23985107)


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